Untitled (so far)
by Harvester
Summary: Fifth chapter up. Sequel to A Dream of Dark and Terrible Things. Buffy and the gang deal with the legacy left by the battles they fought. Please R
1. In Between

A form moved between the dimensions, leaving a luminous trail in the aether. Its thoughts were troubled, as it surveyed the boundary between one world and another. Small cracks had begun to form in the boundary, though the being was glad to see that the barrier was still intact. In many other places, the boundaries were breaking down much more quickly, and the being cursed in a language no human has ever heard spoken. The being had expected some damage from the battles that had been fought, but it had expected the dimensions to find balance again, and that the wounds in the dimensional walls would heal over time. However, the cracks were deepening, and in some places, the line between one reality and another was becoming indistinct. In many places, dimensions had started to bleed over, charactistics from one becoming a part of the others it touched.  
  
The being ran a hand over the cracks, letting power flow into them. When it removed its hand, the cracks were sealed, and it sighed, satisfied that, here at least, the damage could be undone. It moved on, looking for other places where the damage was not so great that it would still be able to repair the walls.  
  
---  
  
Two combatants circled eachother, looking for an opening. They'd danced this dance many times before, and neither bothered with exploratory attacks. If there was an opening, one or the other would see it, and take advantage.  
  
The blonde-haired man noticed the woman shift her eyes to his shoulder, and he tensed, preparing for an attack. He'd left his left hand drop slightly, inviting an attack, but when his opponent did move toward him, the expected blow didn't fall. She moved her eyes to the opposite shoulder, dropping into a crouch, then rising quickly, grabbing his right arm and pulling hard. He felt himself lifted off the ground, and his vision swam as his face hit the ground, hard. He tried to roll over, but she was already on his back, her arms encircling his neck. She pressed her knees into his back, lifting his torso off the ground, and threatening to break his spine.  
  
He grabbed her arms, trying to pry them apart, but knew he had lost. He slapped his open palm into the ground, and she released her hold on him, rolling off him to the side. As she stood, she offered him her hand, and he took it.  
  
"Bloody hell, woman, were you trying to break my back?"  
  
Buffy smiled at him as she watched him rub his throat. "Just paying you back for the bruises you gave me last time."  
  
Spike grinned, checking his back to make sure there was no damage. "Yeah, well, I still say you didn't get those from our spar."  
  
"I DID get those from the fight," she said, then blushed as she continued, "at least, I'm pretty sure I did."  
  
"Right," Spike said. "And I'm sure the rest believe that too."  
  
"Hey, it was all your fault, any way it happened. You need to learn some self control, buddy."  
  
Spike grabbed her, throwing her to the ground. He pinned her beneath him, and laughed as she struggled. "What can I say, around you, I just can't help myself."  
  
As he leaned in to kiss her, a voice came from behind them. "I thought you two were training."  
  
They both looked up to see Dawn standing over them, her arms crossed.  
  
"I was just, um, teaching her a new move I came up with."  
  
"Uh huh. And I suppose that 'move' is something she'd be able to use the next time she goes on patrol, right?"  
  
Buffy pushed Spike off her, and looked at her sister. She blushed again, a silly grin spreading across her face. "Well, that would depend on who I was fighting, I guess," she said as she straightened her shirt.  
  
"Anyway," Dawn said, rolling her eyes, "I just wanted to let you know I was home."  
  
As Dawn walked back up the stairs, Buffy and Spike looked at eachother, sharing a laugh. "You know," Spike said as he dusted himself off, "we really should put a lock on that bloody door."  
  
"Yeah. And a red light above it to let everyone know we're in here. And a little sign saying 'If the basements rocking, don't come a knocking'."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea to me."  
  
---  
  
"Are you sure about this?"  
  
Willow looked awkwardly at Tara, and asked, "Haven't you felt it?"  
  
"I've been feeling something. Do you think we should tell Buffy?" Tara moved to sit down, pushing some of the books Willow had scattered around her on the floor to one side.  
  
"Not yet," Willow said. "I want to be sure we're not just overreacting."  
  
"But if I'm right, this is bad."  
  
---  
  
The barrier was indistinct. In places, it disappeared completely, and in those places it was impossible to distinguish between the two realities that had once existed seperately. Too much damage had been done for the being to repair it, and as it watched, the barrier disappeared entirely. The being pressed his fingertips against the wall of the newly created realm, creating an opening, and stepped through.  
  
The entire realm was in flux, shifting rapidly between one reality and another. Everything seemed to move slightly, one second seeming completely solid, the next wavering, becoming insubstantial. A building shifted, and for a moment ceased to exist, then snapped back suddenly. Its walls buckled from the stress, the roof falling in on itself. In the distance, a large fire burned, the flames shifting from bright orange, almost white, to black. A creature crawled toward the being, and even after having seen so much, the being found it had to look away. The poor, pathetic thing was dying, its body twisting and tearing under the pressure created by the clashing realities. Half its body shifted, extra arms sprouting from its torso, and the thing died with a sad, wet sound, its anatomy too twisted to support life.  
  
The being felt itself changing too, and quickly passed back into the space between. It had seen this, and worse, happen in other places, but the process appeared to be accelerating. The new, hybrid realities were always unstable, and as more walls fell, the pressure on the remaining barriers was increasing. An idea began to form in its mind, and it set off, hoping that the place it sought was not already gone.  
  
---  
  
Spike sat in the kitchen, taking long gulps from a coffee mug. He finished, and rinsed the mug, placing it in the sink. He considered refilling the mug, but he didn't want to miss the start of the movie, and since he'd had a small accident in the living room, Buffy didn't allow him to drink anywhere but hte kitchen.  
  
Dawn was home for a few days, and Spike wanted as much time with her as he could get. Since she'd left for college, they'd kept in touch, but he found he missed having her around.  
  
"Has it started yet?" he asked, walking into the living room.  
  
Buffy and Dawn were already situated on the couch, and both looked up when they heard his voice. He was struck by how much Dawn had changed in the time she'd been gone. She was easily a head taller than Buffy, even sitting down, though he could still see the resemblance to Buffy.  
  
"You're just in time," Dawn said, moving over ot make room for him on the couch.  
  
Spike sat, putting his arm around Buffy. "I thought we were going to have another little guest tonight," he said, throwing a small smile at Dawn.  
  
"He'll be here. He's just kinda bad with the whole being on time thing."  
  
"Maybe he got eaten by some big nasty on the way her," Spike said, showing mock concern.  
  
"William!" Buffy said, slapping his arm.  
  
"I'm only kidding," he said, glancing sideways at Dawn. "Besides, if he can handle nibblet, I doubt any nasty he ran into would stand a chance against him."  
  
Dawn giggled, "You know it!"  
  
The movie started, and the three of them settled in to watch it.  
  
---  
  
Tara completed the ritual, and an image shimmered in the air above her. She traced glowing lines with her finger, following the twisting and turning paths. Willow watched, fascinated with the complex web of colored lines.  
  
"Here. See this?" Tara asked, pointing to a place where two of the lines crossed. As she followed them both, they crossed again, and again. She stopped when both merged into a single line, watching the colors shift rapidly.  
  
"And here," she said, pointing to another place where thre lines intersected. In that place, though, the lines simply stopped. She traced backwards, and watched as all three slowly started to fade, their once vibrant colors shifting to a dull grey.  
  
"Can you find ours?" Willow asked, stepping forward to get a better look at the construct.  
  
Tara placed her hands on either side of the image, and as she moved her fingers along the edges, the entire construct moved to follow them, turning in the air. "Here," she said, indicating a line that flowed through the construct, touching others, but never fully crossing them. "It looks okay, for now."  
  
As they watched, the lines shifted, and the one she indicated briefly crossed another, though the two quickly separated.  
  
"Now we tell Buffy," Willow said.  
  
---  
  
In a place no human eyes had ever seen, the being stopped, sending out its senses. It could feel the one it sought, and moved toward it.  
  
The place was as yet untouched by the calamities occuring in the aether. Thick fog shrouded everything, but the being easily picked its way amongst the rocks and trees, coming at last to a clearing by a small stream.  
  
The one it sought sat on a rock, staring at the moving water. Sensing the being's approach, the man's head turned, sightless eyes coming to rest on the being.  
  
The man took a deep breath. "I can feel it. Is it as bad as I think?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. I need your help."  
  
"I know," the man said, reaching down into the water, letting the current wash over his fingers. "I can feel the walls moving as the stream does. How long do we have?"  
  
"Not long. What can we do?"  
  
The man rose, motioning for the being to follow him. "We can't do anything more than we are already. But there are others who can."  
  
---  
  
As the movie ended, all three sat, crying on the couch. "Bloody idiot," Spike said, "why'd he have to leave like that? Didn't he see how much she loved him?"  
  
Dawn laughed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "It's just a movie," she said, hugging him.  
  
"Well, he's still a bloody wanker."  
  
Buffy and Dawn looked at eachother, and then at Spike, laughing. "Oh, fine," he said, "Gang up on the weeping vampire. Very nice."  
  
There was a knock at the door, and Spike got up to answer it. He wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve, and was silently thankful for whomever it was that saved him from the two.  
  
He opened the door to find Willow standing outside. "Can I come in? I need to talk to Buffy."  
  
Spike started to say something, but stopped when he noticed the way Willow was pulling at her sleeves. "Is something up?" he asked, stepping aside so she could enter.  
  
Willow laughed, the sound small and sad. "You could say that."  
  
---  
  
Notes: I haven't been able to come up with a title I like for this one, so I thought we'd get a little audience participation going on. If you review the story, feel free to include suggestions for the title. I'll choose one of them after I publish the thrid part (most likely on this coming Saturday). The person who comes up with a title I like will get a thank you at the end of each chapter, and credit for the title. And, of course, bragging rights *grin* 


	2. Pawns

Space, like time, flows and shifts. And like time, space, true space, not the little corner of it we occupy and call our world, is an impossible thing for the average person to imagine. To see and experience the vastness of space as it truly is, the human mind would need a strength it simply isn't capable of. To see even a small part of the true space would cause the strongest mind to shatter.  
  
Two beings who could see that space, and moved through it as easily as any of us would step through a door, sat, discussing what they would do.  
  
"You will need to keep healing the breaks where you can," said one, a small man with grey eyes.  
  
"I will see about contacting the balance. We will need them if we are to stop the decay."  
  
The other, who took the shape of a man for this meeting, shifted in its chair. "But will they be able to do anything?" it asked.  
  
"They stopped the chaos. More than that, they found the sort of strength needed for this. I think they can," the man said, "if anyone can, that is."  
  
---  
  
Tara had arrived shortly after Willow, and the two of them sat trying to explain what was happening.  
  
"We think it started with the chaos," Willow said.  
  
"B-but it's been getting worse. Willow felt it before I did, but we confirmed it together, tonight."  
  
"You're telling us that damned creature is still mucking things up?" Spike asked.  
  
"Not directly. But it did so much damage before we stopped it, things are still broken. And getting more broken by the minute."  
  
"Great." Spike opened the door, and pulled out his cigarettes. Buffy hadn't been able to get him to quit, but she had gotten him to stop smoking in the house. As he lit up, he continued from the doorway, "What are we supposed to do about it?"  
  
"Willow and I have s-some ideas. But we're not s-sure we can do anything."  
  
"Bloody brilliant," Spike said, taking a deep drag. "What happened to the good old days of a Big Bad you could just hit with an axe, and it would go away?"  
  
---  
  
A mind stirred, and dark eyes opened, adjusting quickly to the dim light. The mind moved slowly at first, dulled by the centuries it had spent in sleep. The sleeper sat up, surveying the room that had been its sanctuary. Slowly, it stood, remembering how it came to be there, and as it did, the faces of its enemies came to it.  
  
It walked unsteadily to the massive door that sealed its tomb, and touched the cool metal. It thought of those faces again, and its rage exploded. Its fingers pressed through the metal of the door as if it were paper, and it pulled, tearing the door off its hinges. Light flooded the room, and the figure cried out, momentarily blinded.  
  
"We've been waiting for you, master." The figure could not see well enough to discern the speaker, but the voice was familiar.  
  
"How long?" it croaked, steadying itself against the frame of the door.  
  
"In this place, many centuries have passed, Master."  
  
"How long for them?"  
  
"For them, only two years."  
  
The figure smiled, finally focusing its eyes on the tattooed man that stood before it. It could feel his respect, and his fear. "Are things happening as I predicted?" it asked.  
  
"Yes. Already, others are moving to contact them. We have prepared as you told us. We are ready."  
  
"Good." The thing blinked, looking at the others who stood behind the tattooed speaker. "Let the others contact them first. We will wait until we know their plans before moving."  
  
"Of course, master."  
  
---  
  
Willow and Tara held eachother in the darkness. Willow ran her fingers over her lover's face, tracing the outline of her eyes. Neither was able to sleep, both their minds working, trying to think of something to do about the discoveries they'd made.  
  
"You know what we need to do, right?" Willow asked.  
  
"I-i think so. I just hope we can find him. It. Them?"  
  
Willow smiled, kissing the side of Tara's neck. "That too. But I meant right now."  
  
"O-oh," Tara said, the beginnings of a smile on her face.  
  
As they kissed, all the thoughts that had been pulling at their minds fell away. For a time, at least, there was only the two of them, together, in the darkness.  
  
---  
  
Spike sat on the porch, staring at the sky as it lightened with the coming of morning.  
  
"You couldn't sleep either?"  
  
He turned to see Buffy standing in the door. "No. Too much to think about, I guess."  
  
Buffy joined him, resting her head on his shoulder. As the sun rose, they sat in silence, watching.  
  
"You know, I never missed it," Spike said. "For over a hundred years, the sun was just another enemy. One I couldn't fight."  
  
"And now?"  
  
He reached out, letting the light fall on the back of his hand. He said nothing as his skin warmed. Since the link, sunlight still hurt, but it took longer for him to notice, and he could spend short periods in the sun with no protection.  
  
He pulled his hand back once the pain got too great, and touched Buffy's face. She smiled, enjoying the warmth of his touch. "Now," he said, "sitting here with you, watching the sun rise... I wouldn't give it up for anything."  
  
---  
  
"It seems as if there are unexpected effects from the events of two years ago."  
  
The men gathered around the table remained silent, waiting for the speaker to continue. "Our best minds are looking at the problem, as I'm sure others are in the places more directly affected. However, we cannot simply stand idle while a threat of this magnitude grows around us."  
  
"What can we do?" The voice came from the youngest member, a man named McReedy. "If its as bad as we hear..."  
  
The first speaker cut him off, "They are. We believe that the group responsible for the defeat of the chaos creature may be our best bet. However, having dealt with them in the past, you should all know that there are no guarantees they will follow any plan we present them with."  
  
"So, now we must decide whether to give them what we know, and let them find their own solution, or take steps to ensure they do what must be done."  
  
"We can't take the chance," a new speaker said. "Perhaps we can use her ex- Watcher to get her to cooperate?"  
  
"No. Trust me, all that would do is force them to act against us before doing anything else. We know we can't trust Giles, he cares too much for the Slayer. He has falsified reports, and acted without our knowledge. He is to be left out of this. Am I clear?"  
  
The members nodded their ascent, though only grudgingly. "We will need to remove him as a resource for the Slayer. We need to minimise the number of variables, though the Slayer is still unpredictable, without him we will be better able to control the information she receives."  
  
"However, I think that if we go to her offering to help, without pushing, we may be able to assure her consent to our plans. And, if that fails, there is always her sister, and that vampire, Spike. She cares about them both a great deal, and if we can find a way to use them, perhaps convince them that we're right, she'll listen. Also, there is Angel, though I doubt he will be much of a resource to us now."  
  
"If we are not able to convince her, we will not be able to force her cooperation. No one," Travers said, sitting forward, "is to make any sort of move without the express authority of the Council. Anyone who does, will be branded a traitor, and dealt with accordingly."  
  
He paused, letting the last sink in. "For now, Giles will be sent on a fact finding mission. See that it is to some place remote. Continue researching the breaches, we must find a way to slow them if we can."  
  
"I'll contact the Slayer."  
  
---  
  
Notes: Get those reviews up *grin* I need to slap a title on this puppy. The story is going to be a little slower going than my first, so bear with me. The political manuevering fascinates me, but don't worry, it'll start to pick up in the next couple of chapters.  
  
Also, though I know about the current spoilers for the coming episodes, I'm doing my best to ignore them, as I don't really like the direction they're heading. Just consider this to be AU for now. 


	3. Move

The man at the door was well-dressed, carrying a briefcase. If Buffy hadn't recognised him, she would have thought he was a case-worker from Social Services.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"May I come in? We need to talk."  
  
Buffy shrugged, "I don't see that we have anything to talk about. I don't work for you anymore, and I don't see how you could possibly..."  
  
The man raised his hand, cutting her off. "I know that our relationship in the past has been somewhat adversarial," he said, "but you need to hear what I have to say. It concerns certain effects we believe are a direct result of the chaos being you fought."  
  
Buffy was glad Spike had decided to spend the night at his crypt. The last thing she needed was Travers to find out the vampire not only still lived, but spent more time at her house than she did. "You can come in, but I'm warning you, the first threat, the first thing you say I don't like, and I'll throw you out. Literally."  
  
Travers smiled, "Yes, I imagine you will. But you needn't worry. Threats are the farthest thing from my mind right now."  
  
Buffy stepped aside, allowing him to pass. He seated himself on the couch, as she closed the door.  
  
"Well, I guess I should begin by saying how grateful we are for your work against..."  
  
"Save it." Buffy retrieved a chair from the kitchen, and sat down across from him. "We did what we had to. None of the things we did were for you."  
  
"But we still appreciate them, especially since, we understand," Travers said, removing a thick sheaf of papers from his briefcase, "your victory came at great personal cost."  
  
"I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Now now, we know about the vampire, Spike is it? Rupert was quite thorough in describing your relationship with this Spike, and how events played out during your battle. I would say that I am sorry for your loss, but, it seems," he said, pulling a photograph out of the pile, "reports of the creature's death were exaggerated."  
  
Buffy sat in shock. The photo showed her sitting on her porch, leaning her head against Spike's shoulder.  
  
"If you go near him, I swear..."  
  
"Don't worry. We have classified him as non-hostile, at least for the time being. The Council appreciates his help as well as yours. Though, I must say, some on the Council do worry about your closeness to him."  
  
Buffy stared at him. "It's none of your business," she said.  
  
"I agree. Your relationship has not affected your performance in the field, in fact, from all reports this Spike assists you on your, what do you call them? Patrols, I believe is the word you use."  
  
"But this isn't what you came to talk about, is it?" she asked, attempting to keep her temper in check.  
  
"It is a part of it, I'm afraid."  
  
---  
  
As Spike awoke, he reached for the opposite side of the bed without thinking. It took a moment for him to remember he'd slept alone. The sun was still up, and it felt like the early afternoon to him. He removed a bottle from the small refrigerator by the bed, and, checking to make sure he had at least one more bottle left, gulped down the contents.  
  
Tossing the empty bottle into the trash, he pulled on his shirt. He thought about making the trip to Buffy's house, but looked at the state of his home, and decided he should do some cleaning first.  
  
He thought about Buffy the entire time, remembering the conversations they'd had about him moving in with her. "It doesn't make any sense," she'd told him. "You spend most of your time here anyway."  
  
"I need my own place. And, I can't imagine you'll understand this, but it is my home. I've actually grown attached to it."  
  
He smiled, pulling clean clothes from the bag he'd brought with him from Buffy's, and piling them haphazardly in one of the drawers in his dresser. "Well, if you're going to spend any time there, you really should get some decent furniture."  
  
Cleaning up took less time than he'd expected. Having no more excuses not to go out, he pulled on his duster, and the hat Buffy had bought him shortly after they'd discovered the changes he'd gone through. He honestly hated how it looked, he was sure with the wide brim he looked like a complete poof, but Buffy said he looked good in it, and he wouldn't let her down by wearing something else.  
  
Once outside, he closed the door to his crypt, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.  
  
---  
  
Spike heard their voices, and stood listening at the door.  
  
"We already know all of this."  
  
"I should have expected that. However, there is more."  
  
The second voice was one Spike didn't recognise, though from the accent and the proper speech, he knew it had to be someone from the Watchers.  
  
"The rate of decay seems to be increasing. We have some of our best minds working on ways to slow it, but we believe you to be the key to stopping it altogether."  
  
Spike sighed. The sun was beginning to bother him, the overhang on the porch only partially shielding him from the sun's rays. He considered returning to his crypt, until the sound of his name pulled him back to the conversation.  
  
"Both you and the vampire Spike will be required, we think. And most of the others involved in that battle. However, we have been unable to track down either your friend Xander, or the demon known as Anyanka. Also, Rupert is otherwise occupied at the moment, and we are having trouble tracing him as well."  
  
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, right. Let me guess, he's off doing Council business?"  
  
"Yes, actually. Though we do expect to hear from him shortly, his location unfortunately prohibits easy communication."  
  
The pain was becoming unbearable, and Spike chose that moment to open the door. Both Buffy and Travers looked up as he entered.  
  
"Ah, speak of the devil," Travers said, smiling.  
  
Spike shrugged off his duster, hanging it on a hook next to the door. "Not me, mate. I leave that job to wankers like you and your friends."  
  
The smile on Travers face faded. Buffy stood, walking over to Spike. "Spike, meet Quentin Travers. You missed meeting him the last time he was in town."  
  
"Oh, right." Spike hung his hat next to his coat, and turned to Buffy, pulling her into a deep kiss. "I missed you," he said, sneaking a look over her shoulder. Travers sat with a look of pure shock on his face, and Spike grinned at Buffy.  
  
Travers coughed, and said "It's good you're here."  
  
Spike looked at the man, the grin still firmly plastered on his face. "I wish I could say the same of you."  
  
---  
  
He watched his followers with tired eyes, wishing again they could know the touch of the being that had birthed him. Since the death of his parent, he had been alone, and he missed the myriad voices that had once filled his mind. He found a part of him even missed the group he had been linked to, having been as close to them as any, but his hatred for them, and his need for revenge, overruled anything else.  
  
His followers were efficient. They always moved with purpose, never wasting any time or energy in following his orders, but he knew how much more efficient they would have been if he could only have held onto the powers of his parent.  
  
Their preparations were almost complete. While he'd slept, and dreamed, his followers had done all that he had asked of them. He'd known that, with the damage done by the chaos, the remaining dimensions would be unstable, and that over time the walls would weaken. He'd also known that his old enemies would do what they could to stop it. He smiled at the perfect irony. From the chaos would come ultimate order. It was just a welcome coincidence that his enemies would need to be crushed for that to happen.  
  
Finding demons to work for him had been easy. Some had already experienced the perfection that had been his mother and father, having been touched after one of the numerous battles against the chaos. They were eager to be a part of the power and perfection again, and his promises had been more than enough to ensure their absolute loyalty. Others required more convincing. He promised them safety from the coming events, told them that he would use his power to protect them. He'd lied, of course, but the promises and small demonstrations of his power were more than enough to convince most. A few worked for him unwillingly, compelled by spells, or threats that if they did not serve him, he would give them pain and suffering, without even the possibility of death. These he assigned his most loyal followers to watch over, in case they decided to turn against him.  
  
"I have news," a voice came from his left. He didn't bother to look toward it, as the creature that spoke had no physical body. Somehow, it had managed to survive the destruction of its body during the chaos war, and while it could see and hear, it could not affect the physical world. It acted as a spy for him, being nearly impossible to detect using even strong magics.  
  
"Tell me," he said, moving back into his room, away from the cursed light.  
  
"The balance has been contacted by one of the groups that led the fight against the chaos. They are quite powerful, but their vision is limited, and I believe we can use them. The others, however, are also moving to contact the balance, and of them, I was able to find out little. I believe, but am not sure, that one of them is known to you already."  
  
"Yes. My counterpart," he chuckled mirthlessly. "Of course he would play a part in all of this. Have you been able to find anything about him?"  
  
"Very little. He is more powerful than you told me, that much I know. He moved between the worlds easily, and was able to resist the effects of a merging between two of the dimensions. He also seems to have enough power to bolster the dimensional walls, though I do not know how far that power extends. I would guess that, as the merging continues, his strength will be taxed to its utmost."  
  
"There is another, but..." the voice stopped.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I could not go near him. The power in that one is so strong, I could feel it before I even entered his dimension. It radiated out from him, and the closer I got, the more difficult it was for me to maintain... cohesion. I know only that he is powerful, and that he and your counterpart are working together."  
  
He sat, lost in thought. He had expected many beings of power to become involved, just as he had expected the current troubles to bring the being that was his mirror image back into the game. What he had not expected was an alliance between his counterpart and the powers, at least not this early into the game.  
  
After a moment, he spoke, "Focus on the balance and those around them. Find out as much as you can about this new group they're working with, and report back to me. Do not take any action yet, though."  
  
"As you wish. If I might ask, why not simply destroy the balance before they become a threat? I don't see the value it letting them live."  
  
"They are integral to my plans," he said, smiling wickedly.  
  
"It is their power that will ensure the merging is complete."  
  
---  
  
The aether was disturbed, a major merging had taken place recently and the effects were already tearing at the walls of the surrounding dimensions. Already, the walls were too badly damaged to be repaired, so the being set about calming the aether, hoping to slow the spread. Already, he had spent a great deal of power to strengthen the walls that showed minor or no damage, but he feared that would not be enough if another merging took place. Every time the walls broke down and two or more of the dimensions would merge, the resulting release of energy passed into the aether, and slammed against the barriers like a tidal wave. Fortunately, the aether was slow to move, and calming it proved relatively easy. Others had been called to help in the work, and though the decay was still spreading, together they had managed to slow it somewhat. In some places, they had even managed to strengthen the walls so much that certain dimensions seemed immune to the effects of the decay. The being knew, though, that the semblance of strength, and the fact of it, were two completely different things. In time, no amount of power would be enough to stop, or even slow, the breakdown of the dimensional walls.  
  
Noticing a crack beginning to form in one of the barriers, the being shook off the thoughts that plagued him, and again applied his healing power.  
  
---  
  
Notes: Took me a lot longer to finish this part than I expected. Sorry about that. I'll be choosing a title before I get the fourth part up, so get those suggestions in. 


	4. Countermove

Travers had given them more information than he'd meant to, but in the end had gotten the promise of their cooperation. He was concerned that the vampire, Spike, seemed to have more of a hold on the Slayer than he'd first thought, but until such time as the vampire became a problem, Travers could tolerate him.  
  
He'd returned to his hotel after the meeting, looking forward to getting some sleep. Two men, his guards, waited for him when he returned, and passed along messages they had taken from the Council while he was out.  
  
As he mulled over the new discoveries made by their researchers, he reclined in bed, wondering if the decisions he had already made were correct. With the Slayer came an element of chance that he didn't care for, but he saw no other way.  
  
As he drifted off to sleep, his mind was still filled with thoughts of the vampire. For some reason he believed Spike to be the solution the Council was looking for.  
  
---  
  
Dawn had come home late to find Spike sitting on the couch, waiting for her.  
  
"I expected you home before this."  
  
"Where's Buffy?" Dawn asked, hanging up her coat. "I was expecting a little double-team action."  
  
"She went to bed. She wanted to wait for you, but I thought it better that I speak to you first."  
  
Dawn plopped down on the couch. "Let me guess, this is where I hear the whole "He's not good enough for my nibblet" speech, right?"  
  
"What? No, I wasn't even thinking of, what's his name, Mark?"  
  
"Matt. And if this isn't about him, what's going on?"  
  
Spike looked at her, wishing now that had he had let Buffy wait with him. "We had a visitor today. Man named Travers. I understand that you know him."  
  
"Quentin Travers? The Watcher?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dawn sat down on the couch. She had never met Travers, but from the stories Buffy had told her, she didn't think she'd like him very much. "What did he want?" she asked.  
  
Spike sighed. "What do they always want?"  
  
Spike filled her in on the meeting, and what Willow and Tara had discovered together.  
  
"I'm sorry, nibblet."  
  
Dawn sat, thinking about what she'd just been told. "This isn't fair."  
  
"It hardly ever is. I know you didn't ask for this..."  
  
"No, I didn't," Dawn cut him off. Spike saw the tears forming in her eyes, and tried to put his arm around her, but she roughly pushed his hand away.  
  
"Nibblet, this is the work your sister and I do, you know that. I'm just sorry we had to involve you in it."  
  
Dawn looked at him. The truth was she had asked for it, and she knew it. She'd asked for it the night she'd fought with Buffy. She'd chosen the responsibility, without thinking of the consequences. "What will I need to do?"  
  
---  
  
Grey eyes closed as senses honed by centuries of sightlessness spread out, checking on the work. Anteus was pleased to see that the combined efforts of the various beings he had contacted had slowed the decay greatly, but at the same time was saddened to see that more than a few were no longer in the aether, most likely having been pulled into a collapse. He mourned them, but moved on quickly, seeking out the two that he had come to think of as the balance. He found them easily, and was glad to see they were still strong. As his senses moved over them, he felt another, something that shied away from his consciousness, and he focused his sight on it. It had also been watching the balance, but had retreated as soon as it sensed him. He recognised the feel of it, and let power flow out along with his sense, finding the thing, trapping it. The thing fought, struggling against the lines of force that caged it, but Anteus tightened his grip, forcing the thing to stop.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing! No one! I was simply curious, and I..."  
  
"Be quiet." Anteus easily pulled the thing to him, across a distance that would have been impossible for most beings. He sensed that his power was beginning to damage the thing, and he modified the cage to protect it.  
  
"You tried to look in on me recently. I felt it, but didn't think too much of it at the time. I had weightier issues on my mind. Now, however," he said, allowing part of his power flow into the cage, "I am not going to believe that this encounter is simply coincidence."  
  
"Let me go!" the thing screamed.  
  
"Perhaps I will, if you tell me what I want to know."  
  
The thing was silent. It could not fight, and it knew that unless Anteus allowed it, it wouldn't be able to leave the cage. "I won't tell you anything. You won't destroy me. You can't."  
  
Anteus sighed. "You're very wrong about that."  
  
Without a word, he reached out with his mind and tore the thing apart. It died, whimpering, but Anteus was able to see its mind before it completely disappeared. He dissected its memory, ripping it apart and digesting the information contained within as easily as he had torn the creature itself apart. What he saw disturbed him, but did not overly surprise him.  
  
As he finished cataloguing the contents of its mind, he sent a call out to his allies.  
  
---  
  
The thing that had once been James Trenton sat, and worried. His spy had been gone longer than was necessary, and that meant it had been discovered.  
  
He was not concerned for the creature's life. After all, it had technically died the morning its body had been torn apart by the collapse of its home dimension, surviving only through force of will, and the minor magics that had been a part of its living nature. No, he was more concerned that it had told his enemies of his plans, and that they would be moving against him sooner than he had expected. Also, without his spy, he would need to find another capable of watching his enemies without being seen, and that presented a number of problems.  
  
He stood, and walked to the door of his sanctuary. The tattooed man saw him, and rushed to him, knowing without being told that he was needed. Trenton carefuly considered what he was about to do, and decided that it was necessary. He also found the thought did give him some small amount of pleasure.  
  
"How much longer?"  
  
His priest bowed, smiling widely as he came upright. "We are almost ready. Before this day ends we will have all that you have asked."  
  
Trenton sighed. He had expected to feel pleasure, or at lest some sense of satisfaction, but found he felt nothing at all. "Good," he said coldly. "My spy has been discovered. I need you to assemble a group of our finest warriors."  
  
"It will be done."  
  
"Also, I want you to accompany them. Make sure they don't fail in their task. If they fail, you fail. If you fail, do not return."  
  
"I understand. What is the task you require of us?"  
  
"Kill the vampire. Bring me his ashes."  
  
---  
  
Spike sat on the porch as he did most mornings, waiting for the sun to rise. He hadn't told Buffy yet, but his resistance to the sun was becoming a virtual immunity to it. Every morning, he found he could stay in it longer and longer without feeling pain, and even when the pain did come, it wasn't sharp enough to cause him to seek the shadows. He was enjoying the warmth on his skin when he noticed the man watching him from a car parked up the street.  
  
"Probably one of those Council wankers," he thought to himself. He chuckled, knowing that they still feared him enough to keep a close eye on him.  
  
Ignoring the man, he stood and walked out into the yard. He ran his fingers through his hair, turning his head toward the sun and closing his eyes.  
  
---  
  
Buffy sat at the window, watching her lover stand in the light of the sun. She could feel his joy, and shared in it. She smiled, wondering if some day she might have a tan vampire to deal with.  
  
Buffy considered joining him, but was content to sit and watch.  
  
---  
  
The guard watched the vampire with growing concern. Not only was he standing in full sunlight, the guard was shocked to see he was enjoying it. The information he had been given hadn't covered this, and he didn't like incomplete briefings.  
  
The guard was so intent on watching the vampire, he didn't see the figure approach the car from behind. He barely had time to react as the driver's side window shattered, and a clawed hand reached in, tearing deep gouges in the flesh of his throat.  
  
---  
  
Spike's eyes snapped open. He heard the shattering glass, and shortly after the wind brought the scent of fresh blood to him. He saw the group approaching, five by his count covered from head to foot in dark robes, and backed toward the house. He quickly check the car he'd noticed earlier, and saw blood on the inside of the windshield, obscuring his view of the guard. He ran to the house, shouting "Buffy!".  
  
---  
  
Buffy saw them coming. She heard Spike's shout, and was up in a heartbeat, throwing open her closet door and dragging a heavy trunk out. She flipped it open, grabbing a sword and an axe, before running downstairs.  
  
---  
  
Spike stood on the porch, his back to the door. The five were approaching quickly, and he readied himself.  
  
---  
  
Buffy saw the robed man standing at the bottom of the stairs, but didn't slow her run down the stairs, instead throwing herself against the bannister, shattering it. She hit the floor in the living room hard, but came up fast, swinging the sword in her right hand toward the robed figure, slicing through the fabric and flesh underneath. The thing's head rolled free, dark blood spattering the floor and wall. She leapt forward, narrowly avoiding the claws of a second creature that had entered from the kitchen. She saw two more standing behind the new creature. "SPIKE!" she screamed, swinging wildly with the axe, as it came toward her.  
  
---  
  
Spike nearly tore the screen door off its hinges. He slammed the front door shut behind him, locking it as he turned to see Buffy engaged by one of the robed creatures. The thing was fast, and Buffy was barely holding her own. "Weapon," he said, leaping forward to pull the thing off her. He tossed it into the other two, buying a few seconds. The front door shook, the jam splintering, but held. Buffy tossed Spike the axe, and he swung at one of the creatures as it rose, embedding the axe in its chest. He wrenched the axe free , swinging at a second, but it jumped backwards, the axe whistling through the air, missing cleanly. Buffy attacked the other, but it slapped the blade aside, losing three fingers in the process. The wound didn't slow it, and Buffy stumbled backwards, falling over the coffe table. The thing came at her, and she stabbed up, managing to catch the thing in the calf. It howled, taking a step back, pulling the sword from Buffy's hand.  
  
Spike swung at the figure again, hitting a glancing blow. The front door shook again, splinters of wood flying, but again, it held. Spike backed off, waiting for the thing to come at him, looking for way through its defenses.  
  
Buffy rose as the thing grabbed the blade, and tore it free. It tossed the sword to the floor, and rushed her, swinging a massive, clawed hand at her. She avoided the blow, and kicked the thing in its injured leg, sending it to its knees. She rolled over its back, and grabbed her sword, stabbing it from behind as it turned. The blade pierced its chest, and the the thing fell, motionless. The front door exploded inward, and a scream came from the top of the stairs. Buffy had time to see Dawn standing, frozen, as two more robed demons moved into the house.  
  
Spike heard the scream, but was too busy with his opponent to look for the source. The thing clawed him, tearing bloody gouges in his face and chest. Spike ignored the pain, and swung again, feeling the axe connect. He pulled the axe free, and swung again, severing one of the thing's arms. It fell, struggling weakly, then was still.  
  
Buffy stood between Spike and the two at the door, waiting for the creatures to move. Buffy heard a noise behind her, but couldn't chance turning to see what it was. She hoped Spike could handle whatever it was. As the two at the door came for her, she was startled to see them thrown backwards, bowling over the others behind them. She heard Willow's voice behind her, chanting, and was silently thankful.  
  
Willow felt power rising outside, and focused her will, falling silent. "Protect us," she whispered, and a barrier of blue energy sparked to life in the doorway. A bolt of black fire slammed against it, shattering the barrier, but the fire dispersed, leaving the doorframe scorched. She grabbed Dawn, and pulled her back, saying "Go to your room. Stay there." She touched Dawn's arm, saying "tutis" before pushing Dawn toward her room.  
  
The things outside were starting to rise, but Buffy took a moment to check on Spike. His wounds had already stopped bleeding, and he roughly wiped the blood out of his eyes. Buffy looked at Willow. "Dawn?" she asked.  
  
"Safe. Don't worry about her."  
  
"Can you take care of the black fire one?" Buffy asked, turning again to face the door.  
  
Willow closed her eyes. She could feel the power emanating from outside the house, from not one source, but two. One was already drawing power again, and Willow focused on him, forming another barrier around him. There was an explosion as he released the power, followed by a scream.  
  
Buffy and Spike ran out into the yard, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the death of the spellcaster. Two more of the creatures fell quickly, but the remaining three were on Spike in a heartbeat. The second spellcaster was chanting, and Buffy ran at him, but was stopped in her tracks before she could reach him. She was thrown back as the power he had been gathering exploded outward. She landed hard, and when she tried to rise, pain shot through her left leg.  
  
Spike was in trouble, he had barely been able to handle one of the things, and now three of them were attacking him from all directions. He was bleeding from a dozen different wounds, but he managed to kill one with a lucky swing. He leapt over the falling body, swinging at the creature on his right, the axe connecting solidly. The creature backhanded him, but it stayed standing, the axe imbedded at an angle in its shoulder. The creature to his left suddenly burst into flame, and in a moment not even ashes were left from it. Spike didn't stop to think, he grabbed the axe and pushed, knocking the creature form its feet. As it fell, he pulled the axe free.  
  
The spellcaster stood over Buffy, temporarily distracted by the young witch who had already killed two of his group. Buffy tried to rise again, but the pain in her leg forced her back to the ground. Something seemed to be going on between Willow and the man, though, as both were chanting, their eyes locked. The man's voice rose in volume, and with a triumphant note the air around him cracked to life. Bolts of electricity shot out, connecting with an invisible barrier Willow had erected around herself. Seconds passed, as the barrier began to glow, then crack. Willow continued to chant, sweat forming on her forehead from the effort of maintaining the barrier against such an assault. Finally, the barrier shattered, and Willow crumpled to the ground. The man looked down at Buffy, and she could see the vague outline of his features beneath the hood of his robe. He smiled as he pulled a curved dagger from his belt.  
  
Before Spike could finish the thing off, Buffy screamed "Spike!". He turned, and saw Buffy suspended in the air, struggling against invisible bonds. Willow still lay on the porch, the area around her blackened and smoking. And Spike saw the spellcaster, holding his dagger above his head. Spike charged him from behind, but as he drew closer his movements slowed, caught in the same power that held Buffy in place. He desperately hurled the axe, but it traveled only a few feet before falling to the ground. Spike screamed as the man's hand fell, plunging the dagger into Buffy's chest.  
  
---  
  
Notes: Sorry it took me so long to get this up. Hard times at work, and in life. I've decided to extend the naming contest 2 more chapters, as I'll need more suggestions before I'll feel comfortable choosing one. 


	5. Pause

The entire world lurched a Willow tried to rise. She'd used a considerable amount of power in a short time, and even her power hadn't been enough to fully protect her from the magics that had been used against her, and against Buffy and Spike. She heard Spike scream, and forced her eyes open, quickly wishing she hadn't. Spike stood over the man that had assaulted them, his face contorted in rage. His hands were empty, but Willow had no illusions about just how dangerous he could be, even without a weapon. Buffy lay a few feet away. She wasn't moving, and Willow could see blood on her clothing, and on the ground around her. That was the last thing she saw before falling unconscious.  
  
---  
  
Rage was all he knew at that moment. Burning rage that pushed him on even through the pain he felt should have had him on the ground, screaming. The man was human, but the pain Spike felt when he hit the man only fueled the rage, made it stronger. This man, this creature that was human but more a monster than even Spike had been lay on the ground, bleeding, and it wasn't enough. Spike could have killed him quickly, but held back, the rage making him want the man to suffer before he died. He barely felt it when sharp claws raked his back, stripping flesh and muscle, spattering more blood on the ground.  
  
Too beyond caring to even consider such things as strategy or form, he whirled on the last demon, grabbing its arm as it swung at him again. He ground the bones in the things arm to powder, taking small pleasure in its scream as it clutched its ruined arm to its chest. It tried to step backwards, but Spike grabbed its throat in one hand, punching it twice in the face. The thing's teeth lacerated his hand, but he felt those teeth break, black blood pouring from the thing's shredded lips. Spike grabbed the back of the thing's head, and twisted, snapping its neck. He twisted again, and again, until the thing's head came free, showering him in hot blood. He still held its head in his hands when he turned to face the fallen man again.  
  
The man was was chanting weakly, and some part of Spike realised he was casting a spell. Spike hurled the thing's head, but the man disappeared, and the gory missle hit the ground with a dull thud. Spike roared, falling on the spot where the man had been, his fingers tearing up chunks of grass and dirt, but the man was no longer there. Spike threw his head back and howled, tears spilling from his eyes. He collapsed, the rage finally burning itself out, and full realisation of all the things that had just happened swept in. His eyes closed, and before darkness took him, he managed one conscious thought.  
  
"She's dead."  
  
---  
  
Trenton waited. He wasn't sure that his assassins could actully do what he had asked of them, but the important thing was that his enemies knew he could reach them, hurt them, if he wanted to. He'd honestly expected his followers to die in the attack, but the important thing was the time they would buy him. Even a few hours in the human world would be days or weeks in his. He hoped, silently, it would be enough.  
  
There was a commotion in the camp, and he stepped outside to see what was going on. He found three of his followers carrying the broken body of his priest. The tattooed man looked as if he had been crushed, his arms and legs bent at odd angles, but he was still alive. Trenton walked to where his followers set the man down, and kneeled.  
  
"Is it done?"  
  
The man coughed weakly, blood running from the corner of his mouth. He tried to speak, but didn't have the strength. Trenton touched him, pressing his fingers to the man's forehead. The man struggled briefly, trying again to speak, but froze as Trenton's fingures pressed through skin and bone. Trenton saw everything that had happened, and smiled. He withdrew his hand, absently wiping blood on the man's robe.  
  
Looking up at the gathered demons, he said "Bury him. Make sure he is intact."  
  
Trenton nearly laughed. "We owe it to him. He served us all well."  
  
---  
  
Pain. She floated on red waves of pain, each breath coming harder than the last as she felt fluid fill her mouth. She could taste it, the blood, and she struggled, violently trying to spit it out. She focused on the pain, fed on it. She would not die there, like that. Slowly, as she fought her way back to consciousness, she started to feel the earth beneath her, could feel her fingernails pressing into her palms. She coughed, and felt the blood running down her face. Her next breath hurt, but came more easily, and she forced her eyes open.  
  
---  
  
Spike woke up on the couch. When he opened his eyes, he found Travers sitting opposite him, watching him intently. Spike said nothing, but as he tried to sit up he had to bite back the urge to cry out. The wounds in his back hurt, and he could smell fresh blood mix with old as the gouges opened again.  
  
"You should stay still. Give yourself time to heal."  
  
Spike muttered under his breath, pulling himself up off the couch. Before Travers could react, Spike grabbed him and pulled him out of the chair, holding him off the ground. Spike grimaced in pain, and growled "Where is she?"  
  
"U-upstairs."  
  
Spike dropped him, walking unsteadily toward the stairs.  
  
"Wait," Travers said, picking himself up off the floor. "Our doctors are with her. I can assure you, they'll take good care of her."  
  
Spike stopped. "Doctors?"  
  
"Yes. Don't worry, they'll..."  
  
Spike didn't wait to hear the rest. He lept up the stairs, his pain forgotten, and rushed to Buffy's room. A large man, one of Traver's guards, stood at the door, but Spike tossed him aside easily, throwing the door open.  
  
Buffy lay in her bed, her eyes closed. Spike could see the rise and fall of her chest, and he felt tears well up in his eyes. She was alive. He knew he wasn't dreaming, the pain in his back was too intense for it to be anything but real. He noticed the two men sitting to one side of the bed for the first time, and softly asked, "How is she?"  
  
"She should be dead." Travers' voice came from behind him. "Whatever weapon was used against her, it punctured her right lung. She lost massive quantities of blood."  
  
"A dagger," Spike said, his eyes gently following Buffy's breathing.  
  
"What?" Travers asked.  
  
"It was a dagger. The weapon."  
  
"Ah," Travers said. "Well, I'm honestly more interested in the one who held it. Perhaps we should talk downstairs?"  
  
Spike nodded. He stood for a few more moments, just watching her breathe.  
  
---  
  
"He was human. Tattooed, I think, I saw some sort of design on his arm, may have been on his face too but I'm not sure."  
  
Travers sat, his hands clasped in his lap. "Did he say anything?"  
  
"Nothing useful. He did seem to be leading the demons, and he was powerful. Very powerful."  
  
"Yes," Travers said, "we gathered that much from talking to the young witch."  
  
"Her name is Willow, Watcher," Spike said.  
  
"Willow, yes. Anyway, from her account of this morning's events, he was incredibly powerful. He nearly killed the wi... Willow, as well."  
  
"Is she alright?"  
  
"She will be, but she needs rest." Travers sat back in the chair, and continued, "As does Buffy. She'll heal, but it will take time. As I told you, she should have died from the wounds she received. Which is the other thing I wanted to discuss with you."  
  
"I didn't have anything to do with it, Watcher. I thought she..." Spike paused, pain flashing briefly across his face. The look passed quickly, and Spike's eye's turned cold. "He's dead."  
  
"Are you sure? I thought he used a spell to get away."  
  
"If his wounds didn't kill him, Watcher," Spike said, his face a stony mask, "then I will when I finally track him down."  
  
---  
  
Travers had more questions, and Spike answered as best he could. Most of them centered around the identity of their attackers, but the Watcher finally seemed satisfied that Spike had told him everything, and left. One of the doctors stayed behind to watch over Buffy, and Travers promised to send more guards to protect the house. Spike didn't like the idea of having anymore of the Council's lapdogs in the house, but he saw no real alternative with both Buffy and Red out of action for the time being. He had to admit, however grudgingly, he was glad to have them available.  
  
He was already planning. He didn't know for sure who was behind the attack, but he was determined to find out. He still had friends in the demon underworld, many of whom still owed him favors. Many others, he knew he could bully into giving him what he wanted. For now, they could provide information.  
  
Willingly or unwillingly, he didn't care.  
  
---  
  
Anteus watched. He'd felt the aether react when the balance had been injured, and had instructed his friends to watch carefully for further affects. The decay continued, but fortunately the temporary disturbances did not seem to be adding greatly to it.  
  
Anteus knew where to find his enemies now, and he watched them as well. They'd taken steps to hide themselves, but one did not live for millenia without learning how to subvert the simple tricks others used. The one he sought, his true enemy, was still hidden, but Anteus could easily see the enemy's followers, and their actions. Nothing he saw surprised him, but strangely, neither did it worry him. Their preparations were obvious. Their plans were clear to him. But he felt safe, somehow, in the knowledge that, more than any, they were being mislead.  
  
What did worry him was the obvious distraction they were meant to provide. He knew his enemy's plans, their true plans, were still obscured.  
  
---  
  
Trenton watched his followers, feeling satisfaction. He seriously doubted the woman was dead, but it didn't matter. Her time would come, soon enough. It was enough she'd felt his power, seen what he could do. "What they could do," he corrected himself quickly.  
  
---  
  
Notes: Setup. Pain in the ass, but unfortunately a necessity. Forgive me, it'll be worth it in the next chapter. I promise.  
  
I'll post the title with the next chapter, as well as modifying all past chapter to include my thanks to the person who came up with it. Get suggestions in now, if you want a shot at being immortalised (if you can really call it that *grin*). 


End file.
